


Fragrant Island

by YuriOokino



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dreams, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-14
Updated: 2012-05-14
Packaged: 2017-11-05 08:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/404518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YuriOokino/pseuds/YuriOokino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dreams become reality for John Watson. A neverending sleep is what he wants, looking for Sherlock, who's gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragrant Island

I start noticing my surroundings: soft mattress under my hip, rough bedclothes over my cheek, a pillow shoved under my head. It's wet. Tears. Not my smell. Another smell, melancholic, sad, beloved. Absent. I can notice it on this pillow only; the world's walls are closing around this bed.  
The atrocious pain in my chest is coming back as I wake. I need to hide it under this pillow, the bedclothes, the mattress, anything. I need to block it out. I'm still weeping and I think this is the only thing I've ever been able to do.  
Need unconsciousness.  
Soft, reluctant steps circumnavigate the bed, my island, my world. I can't see who is coming, I don't want to see, but I know. I can still hear.  
"I talked to the doctor."  
I used to be the doctor. What happened to me?  
"He said you should take these."  
Oh, yes. I know what happened. I don't want to remember.  
"These will make you sleep, dear."  
My mind is trying to separate itself; I can barely feel my movements. I take two pills. Cold water runs in my chest. For a moment I'm afraid it will fall in the big black hole I have instead of my heart.  
My leg burns. It has never hurt so much.  
Don't move. Don't breathe.  
Just sleep.  
Just die.  
Dark fingers are taking me in the abyss. I feel them, warm and strong. I hope I will never be able to wake up.  
Your scent overruns my nostrils and my brain. I'm keeping you in my hands. You're soft and wet. You're here.  
My eyes are closed but I can see you sitting on the bottom of the bed. Your bed. Staying motionless, showing your back only.  
I could stay here forever, watching your shoulders, dreaming of the past. I want this to be reality.  
"John, dear? You should wake up and eat something."  
A distant voice, but I can't see anyone speaking. This is not reality.  
Are you still here? I cannot feel your warmth. You're pale and cold.  
Deeper. I'll find my reality if I go deeper. I'll build my island of happiness and I'll stay there forever.  
Darkness, but I see a light. Two lights. Light, bright blue. Your eyes are on me.  
"You're suffering too much, John."  
Your mouth is moving but this is not your voice.  
I hear the rhythmic ticking of an umbrella on the floor.  
"Wake up, take a shower, eat, and live. You're suffering too much."  
This is not true. I should suffer ten times more to feel better, but I'm human. I can't suffer more than this.  
"Wake up."  
Go away from my dream.  
"Wake up!"  
I open my eyes. Strangely I'm not tired. You're standing in front of me and saying: 'I would be lost without my blogger.' Then you vanish through the door.  
Where do you think I'm going? I will never let you be alone.  
Darkness is over around us, but I follow your light.  
"I'm worried"  
That distant voice again. For a moment I feel the pillow under my face.  
"Did I exceed the dosage?"  
"Two pills are fine, Mrs. Hudson. It's not your fault."  
I know this voice, but it's not part of the island I'm building.  
"John?"  
Lestrade.  
"If you don't wake up now we'll take you to the hospital."  
Stop talking. I'm sleeping.  
"You've not eaten for four days, John."  
I don't need to eat. I'm sleeping.  
The distant voices vanish, finally.  
"Sherlock?" Your name hurts as much as my leg. This silence hurts. But I'll keep looking for you; I'll find you, sooner or later.  
Your smell.  
Here you are. Your black suit was hiding you in this dark. This is your realm and it will be mine.  
'I'm a fake,' you say.  
I don't believe you.  
Something grips my leg and pulls me away from you. Not again.  
"John?"  
A woman's voice. It's not you. I don't care.  
"How are you?"  
Why do you keep taking me away?  
"Oh, I'm Molly! I've brought you something. Tea infusion, because you don't want to eat."  
Hurry up; I need to go back to the reality.  
Silence. I'm going.  
"J-John? I hate seeing you in this… condition."  
I won't be in this condition anymore if you let me go.  
Fear, I can feel it in the room. It's bitter and cold. "I need… I need to tell you something, John!"  
Too late. I'm awake again.  
I'm lying on the chilly grass. My natural pillow is wet by the dew. Dew is also freezing on my face. These are not tears, I'm happy now. Finally, this is my green island.  
You lie beside me. I sigh. I can relax, now. I'm awake, I'm living and I'm with you. Everything was a lie.  
Why are you so rigid? Why don't you talk? Has your mind been stolen by another one of your cases? It's fine, I'll wait here. You'll ask me to help you or simply tell me everything at the end to show off. And then I'll blog about it.  
This is the reality. How could I think just for a moment that you could be dea-  
Hurt. Leg hurts. Chest hurts. Head hurts. What have I done? Am I falling asleep again?  
No, this is not the right time!  
Heavy darkness. Pain everywhere. Pale, yellow light in the black room. Bedclothes over my body. Wet pillow over my cheek.  
I don't like this dream.  
I feel something heavy next to me, and your smell is still here. How long can a smell permeate a room? I don't want to look around; the island is my only safe place. I need to go back to my green field.  
But I felt the pain. I remembered what happened and maybe I won't be able to wake up anymore.  
Why?  
A warm body next to me, I feel it through the clothes.  
"Why did you do this to me?" I ask. I need an answer now.  
Delicate fingers touch my shoulder. They seem real. But they aren't.  
"Wake up." Your voice is whispering near my ear.  
"Why?" I feel your fingers, they're reluctant and bashful. I've never felt them this way before. Your touch leaves a burning path on my arm. Why do you hurt me? "I hate you."  
Fingers leave. Warm under my ear. A whispered kiss.  
"I love you."  
Light. I'm blind. No, I can see again, these were just my eyelids. I forgot I had them.  
I start noticing: soft mattress under my hip, rough bedclothes over my cheek, a pillow shoved under my head. It's wet. Tears.  
And a kiss still burning on my jaw.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Molly, an excellent and maybe too kind beta


End file.
